


pray, revive

by thisissirius



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Conversations, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Memories, Morning Cuddles, Soft Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: Softly, quiet enough that Shaun is glad for the lull in noise from outside, Vax says, “I want to retire.”





	pray, revive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tictactoews](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tictactoews/gifts), [abbyleaf101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyleaf101/gifts).



> i will die on a hill made of vaxmore feelings and betaless fics.
> 
> for my beautiful ladies, mar and julia (and jo) who listen to me whine about vaxmore constantly in chat.
> 
> YES I STOLE THE TITLE FROM THE VOX MACHINA HAMILTON MASHUP WHATEVER
> 
> omg these two are stealing my life. it's fine. i'm f i n e.

There are some things that Shaun Gilmore refuses to dwell on.

A few from his early days of adventuring, his body bearing the runes, the _scars_ of fights and close calls. More still from his retreat to Emon, struggling with a shop that seemed much too large even for a city that size. Others are more recent, since Vox Machina walked into his life and changed everything.

Since Vax’ildan.

There are memories, sometimes strong and unyielding when he dreams, that threaten to pull him under, drown him in fear and imagined outcomes, but he will always wake to a cool hand touching his face, the press of lips to his cheek.

Though Shaun loves his job, loves the people he works with and considers many of them family, he is often lonely. Having already burnt bridges with a party he’s long forgotten, and with many of his friends having duties that take them away from Emon for long periods of time, Shaun finds it difficult.

Most of the memories that plague Shaun are of loss.

There has been less of that recently, for one very good reason.

Shaun wakes slowly, sunlight spilling through the small gap in his curtains. The sounds of the city make it through even Shaun’s reinforced windows, rebuilding, shouting, and traders offering their wares. Shaun should really join them; he can already hear Sherri downstairs, getting ready to open up. He had been afraid for a long time that she wouldn’t return, that he’d be forced to find something else to do with his time. She had remained with him, telling him with glasses resting against her nose that she had nothing better to do with her time.

Shaun’s reluctance to leave the bed is because of a heavy weight against his arm, a warm puff of breath against his neck. It’s becoming less rare to wake this way, though Shaun appreciates every time as if it might be the last.

(And oh, how close they had come not-)

Closing his eyes against the memory, Shaun turns, looks down at Vax’ildan with what he knows is love and fondness. Tumbling into the shop the night before, Vax had been fresh from a job with Vox Machina, bloodied and torn, and collapsing into Shaun’s arms with a satisfied sigh.

Though Vax has been depressed and introspective the entire time Shaun has known him, he's becoming more open, smiling with more frequency. Though it seems crass and indulgent, Shaun likes to think that he is partly responsible, though he would never say so out loud. It's always heart-wrenching to see Vax in such a state, fear bubbling up under a veneer of calm that Shaun has practiced for years.

It had been all he could do to wash the blood and grime off of Vax and get him into bed before he fell asleep.

Now, hair fanned out against Shaun’s shoulder, a bruise blossoming on his cheek, Vax is still asleep. Often, Shaun will take his time cataloguing Vax’s scars and blemishes, memorising every inch of Vax’s skin for the moments they are apart.

“How do you stand it?” Vax whispers one night, face buried in Shaun’s neck, Shaun’s hand in his hair, holding on as Vax rolls his hips. “It feels as if I will never be whole again.”

It is something Vax says often, either about Shaun, or about Vex’ahlia.

Shaun doesn't answer him then, and he’s not sure he knows how to answer now, should Vax ever ask again. He doesn’t stand it; some days, Vax’s absence is too much to bear, and Shaun will have to shut himself away in the back, poring over potions and spellbooks, though little will distract him from the worry gnawing at his subconscious.

Vax stretches, letting out a soft sound of pain. He jerks awake, as he so often does, but stills as soon as he sees Shaun, letting out a puff of breath against Shaun’s neck and rolling over enough to press his face into Shaun’s shoulder.

“Good morning, my bird.”

Greeted with silence, Shaun presses a kiss to Vax’s head and smiles, closing his eyes as he breathes in Vax’s scent. It’s always so difficult to describe, and though Shaun tries to do it justice, he doesn’t think he ever will. There’s nothing quite like waking up to it, or to Vax.

“I missed you,” Shaun says softly, because it is true, and because Vax always deserves to hear it.

Vax mumbles something too softly to make out, but as he shifts a little, enough to crank one eye open and look up at Shaun, mouth quirked up into a soft smile, he sighs. “Of course you did.”

Shaun huffs a laugh, and mindful of injuries he hasn’t yet discovered, resists the urge to roll him over. Instead, he runs his fingers through Vax’s hair, gently teasing it out when he snags on a knot. “I had hoped, of course, that you would miss me.”

He’s expecting a playful retort, but Vax surprises him; he shifts until he’s settled fully over Shaun, chin resting on Shaun’s chest. He looks serious, his expression a wealth of pain and turmoil that Shaun can’t begin to parse through.

“Vax-“

“I did miss you,” Vax admits softly. His eyes dart away and then back, throat working as he swallows. There is no shame, just apprehension, though Shaun can’t – and wouldn’t – deny him anything. “More than I ever have.”

Shaun’s chest tightens painfully, so much love threatening to spill out of every part of him. “Vax’ildan-“

Closing his eyes, Vax takes a moment, and Shaun gives him whatever time he needs. When they open, Shaun is struck with how calm they are. Vax’s eyes are usually a mirror of his expression, so easy to read once you know how, and Shaun has the pleasure of being someone who does. Now, there is no indecision, no shame – just an acceptance and a little hope that Shaun hardly dares disappoint.

“It has been months since Entropis.” Vax says the last with a hitch in his breath and an apology on his face. Shaun smiles through the emotions the name alone elicits, and he brushes his fingers over Vax’s face, heart clenching once more as Vax leans in to the touch. “I didn’t think I would ever be able to have this.”

These are some of the thoughts that Shaun tries not to dwell on, the ones that chase him in sleep, and he struggles to bury them now, to listen as Vax gets out whatever he needs to.

“Once, before we fought the Chromatic Conclave, I asked Vex what we were doing.”

It’s an admission that Shaun has not heard before, though he can empathise. Often, he wonders at Vox Machina’s motives, what drives them to do the things they do, though he knows from experience that often it can be the need to do _something_ , even when you’re not aware of the consequences. Friends, he knows, _lovers_ , can drive you to do things you may not otherwise.

Vax shifts a little, shuffles their bodies together until he is once more resting a cheek against Shaun’s chest. Shaun’s hand stays in his hair, holding Vax gently against him. The moment feels fragile, as if saying the wrong thing will break it into something horrible. Shaun keeps his silence, giving Vax space to work out his thoughts.

“I think some of us are even less sure now than we were then. We have families. People we love.” Vax says the last with a kiss to Shaun’s chest, his fingers still splayed over Shaun’s heart. Softly, quiet enough that Shaun is glad for the lull in noise from outside, Vax says, “I want to retire.”

Shaun freezes, the words settling against him like a brand. Vax’s fingers curl into a fist, and his eyes dart away from Shaun, landing on the window. “Vax’ildan. Look at me.”

It takes a long moment for Vax to do so.

“Have you been thinking on this often?”

Vax shakes his head minutely, and it’s enough for Shaun to manoeuvre them both into sitting up, though he draws Vax back into his arms, lest he try and leave in an unnecessary retreat. “While we were on Allura’s errand, Vex asked me what I thought of children. Her having them,” Vax corrects quickly, though Shaun doesn’t know why, “and whether or not it was a good idea. I realised we’re all – I wondered what would have happened if I had died.”

The words hit Shaun like a physical attack; the breath leaves his chest in a rush and he’s back there, Vax’s _it was an honour knowing you_ ringing in his ears. If he hadn’t thought to come back, leaving Kaylie and Cassandra in the care of Allura, he dreads to think what might have happened.

“Shaun,” Vax says carefully, his hands soft as they cup Shaun’s face. “I’m here.”

Shaun takes a moment to get his breathing under control, pulling Vax close and breathing him in. “There are things I would rather forget.”

“I wish that I could,” Vax says, sinking into Shaun’s embrace. “I want to build memories with you that aren’t painful.”

They have a few; the day he took off from the shop to have a drink and dinner with Vax around Emon, the look on Vax’s face when he’d seen the wings, the many flirtations across the counter. So many to cherish, though Shaun understands Vax’s meaning. So much of their time together is painful, or fleeting.

“I want to retire,” Vax says again, shifting so that he’s straddling Shaun’s hips, forearms resting on Shaun’s shoulders. He’s close, and yet not close enough. Leaning in, Vax presses their foreheads together, Shaun’s hands coming to rest on Vax’s hips, holding him tight. “I want to live here in Emon with you, or Whitestone, or wherever you want to be.”

“Would you not miss your friends?” Shaun knows the answer before Vax speaks, but he has to ask, has to know for certain.

Vax’s smile is soft as he pulls away, a little apprehensive as Vax always is, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to be so genuine with his feelings. Shaun will convince him every day if he has to, show Vax that the person he is will always be enough. “I know a guy,” he says, grin cheeky in a way that makes Shaun’s pulse quicken. “I think he likes me enough to teleport if I feel the need to see them.”

“Oh?” Shaun raises an eyebrow, and he knows he’s smiling wide enough to hurt and doesn’t care. “I hope I don’t have cause to be jealous.”

“Never,” Vax says, and the words are so honest that Shaun’s breath hitches. Vax curls a long-fingered hand around Shaun’s neck, thumb brushing his jaw. “If you think you can handle having me around on a permanent basis.”

“Vax’ildan,” Shaun says, voice thick with emotion, “I have wanted nothing more since the moment you walked into my store.”

Vax’s smile doesn’t waver as Shan tumbles them over, soothing Vax’s hiss of pain with a kiss. He can be as gentle as he is ardent, and as he gently pulls Vax’s clothes from his body, he kisses him with as much passion and love as he can muster.

Vax’s arm wraps around his neck as he arches into Shaun’s touches, the lines of his body, and he whispers, “I love you,” into Shaun’s ear.

Shaun returns the sentiment with every touch, every kiss, every brush of their bodies. He echoes the sentiment with voice and heart as he thinks on a future that is so much brighter than it was the night before.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm on tumblr for critrole here](http://widogastlie.tumblr.com) or my main [here](http://thisissirius.tumblr.com).


End file.
